Page 98 of Relapse

“Only a sprain, huh?” The doctor repeated, fumbling with his clipboard.

Is he writing down everything I say?

“Yes.” I replied with an exasperated sigh.

“And how did you obtain this injury?”

“Umm…”

David’s warning resounded within me:

“Don’t you ever call me that again. Or next time it will be your pretty fucking face I break.”

“I was in an accident.”

The doctor’s mouth was slowly turning into a frown, his eyes growing more and more suspicious with each passing second of silence. Any longer and I felt like he might expose me.

“What a terrible accident,” he finally said, looking back to his screen. He clicked a few more buttons.

“Yeah,” I agreed, my body shuddered in relief. “You’re telling me.”

Alex reluctantly met me at the pharmacy.

“Noah, why did you put this under my name? I don’t want to get in trouble.”

And he was already whining.

“Alex, I’m hurt. Seriously. Look at the paperwork. My rib is fucked up. I actually need them. The doctor said so.”

My best friend was conflicted. I could see his blue eyes shifting from his steering wheel to the door of the pharmacy. I had no other choice but to bring him so that we could show his ID for the medication. The class of opioids the doctor had prescribed me wasn’t just something you could pick up without having proof.

“I know, Noah. I see your discharge papers, but… aren’t you supposed to stay away from these types of pills?”

The little devil inside my brain was getting fucking irritated—fast. I really had to work to keep myself in check. I knew the pills were just inside, and I could almost taste them.

“Alex, look.” I was about to lay it on thick. “I know you want to protect me. I love you for that.”

Alex turned to me. He was always soft for that shit. Like everyone else in my life, he was too good for me. Too easily manipulated.

Not the type of person I deserved to have in my corner.

“It’s only like seven days worth. Then it’s just tylenol. Promise.”

Alex cracked his knuckles, shaking out his wrist afterwards. “Noah, promise me—”

“I promise,” I answered, too quickly.

Alex put his hand up, “No, let me finish.”

I stopped, my words shrinking back into myself. Alex wasn’t often authoritative, but when he chose to be, those around were captivated by his confidence. Myself included.

“You have to promise me, Noah, that if you are ever thinking about the hard stuff again. The drugs from before,” he paused, closing his eyes. I knew he was remembering my detox. I was thinking about it too.

“You tell me. You tell me before you start taking it again. So that I can actually help you this time, before you get that bad.”

My mouth was dry. I didn’t know how to respond to that. I didn’t know how I was going to lie to my best friend’s face, because I couldn’t tell him that I was already there. I was already in the thick of it. The pills every day. Molly. The weed. The alcohol. I wasn’t the “one type” of drug kind of guy. I did what felt good. I did what made me numb. I took it for pleasure. It didn’t matter what it was.

I did it all.